


Might be over now but I feel it still

by Agoodcaptain



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agoodcaptain/pseuds/Agoodcaptain
Summary: Jimmy and Ali celebrate after the Southampton test, knowing their time together is short.





	Might be over now but I feel it still

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by kutubiyya's wonderful story Distractions and Complications, I decided to get back in the fic-writing saddle. I usually write about Brinn but Cooky's retirement had me feeling a lot of feelings and I've been listening to Jimmy a lot of Tailenders so here we go. The title was inspired by Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man obviously, it was in my head at the time of writing.

“Aren’t you going to miss all this?” Jimmy’s words are said with a wry smile as he gestures vaguely at the empty beer bottles and general post-celebration debris littering the characterless Southampton hotel room but Ali senses there’s a gravity behind them.  
The batsman tightens his grip around Jimmy’s chest and softly kisses the top of the head that rest comfortably on his torso.  
“Yes,” Ali says simply, drinking in Jimmy’s scent, the feel of his morning-cold skin, his everything. He notes every feeling as if compiling a mental scrapbook with Times I Felt Alive by A.N. Cook written on the front in tight, neat script.  
“Yeah?” Jimmy squeaks, unable to keep the teenage insecurity from his voice. He turns to look up at Ali – his teammate, his former captain, his sometime lover, his best friend.  
“Not the press conferences, not the gym sessions, not the living out of a suitcase but the dressing room, the lads… you.”  
Jimmy chuckles, cuffing Ali round the ear, but his relief is endearingly obvious.  
“Soft lad,” Jimmy growls, his Lancashire burr sending a shiver through Ali that soon shows with irrefutable evidence that he is anything but.  
Jimmy – whose hand was resting on Ali’s upper thigh as he leaned over him – notices Ali’s sudden enthusiasm and cocks an eyebrow upwards.  
“Really?” Jimmy smiles, bemused but delighted he can still elicit the same effected in the strong-jawed opener, after all these years.  
“I love it when you get all gruff and Northern… and you know, it’s the morning… I like to open strong…”  
“Shut up,” Jimmy grunts, his tone urgent.  
“Oh come on, that was funny. You know, for me,” Ali blushes.  
“No seriously Ali, shut up.”  
Ali finally catches up with Jimmy’s meaning in time to utter a brief, “Oh, right,” before Jimmy hungrily grabs Ali and crashes their lips together. 

The younger of the two men might have been off to the races first but Jimmy soon joins the party, his cock stiffening against Ali’s tight abdomen as Jimmy bears down on him. Jimmy pulls away briefly from the kiss – Ali’s breathing is already catching in excitement - and pauses, allowing himself a moment to devour the long lean form of the batsman with his eyes. The respite isn’t long but so early in the game - just as things were getting going - it feels long enough to Ali. He lets out an involuntary petulant whimper, which makes Jimmy grin wickedly. But as much as Jimmy loves a power play, he doesn’t have the willpower to hold out and drops his body onto Ali’s, feeling the heat between them.

There is nothing unknown between them, not anymore, not after over a decade of exploring each other’s bodies; first in their own minds until the weight of their desire finally came together with circumstance and a great deal of alcohol and they were able to do it for real, with frantic, prayers-answered giddiness. After several years of on-again/off-again (heartbreakingly too much of the latter) they had run the gamut of sexual experiences; burning fast and desperate after a series win, grabbing fistfuls of each other’s hair, each other’s flesh, then slow and tender when they were able to get rare whole nights together, completely alone. 

Of course there had been a fair amount of experimenting, a good deal of kink. With two such virile, flexible and athletic men, two teammates who trusted each other so completely, who wanted each other so totally; of course they had done all that. They had found new and varied uses for grip cones, and physio tape, and linseed oil and thigh pads and there was that one time where Ali had to hold a careful look of bewilderment as Jos wondered why he had suddenly got a new pair of keeper’s gloves in his kit bag instead of his trusty old ones, as Jimmy had chuckled ever so softly in the corner. This being done however, they had gone on to find their own rhythm; they knew how to push each other’s buttons, hit each other’s spots. There wasn’t much surprise anymore, but there was something deeper than that, and the excitement never faded. Jimmy had wondered if over time he had become too complacent but Ali had reassured Jimmy that his decision had nothing to do with him, with them. This was far from reassuring to Jimmy; why didn’t it?

It is perhaps this uncertainty of what would come next that injects some of their old ‘first lust’ excitement into the encounter. What if the world - their world that had been patiently and deliberately constructed in far-away hotel rooms, in quiet corners of historic grounds, in stolen moments steps away from team dinners, in showers, on scratchy over-washed sheets, behind closed doors and always hidden well away – what if it ended right now? How would they want to go out?

Certainly not quietly, Jimmy decides. Damn the teammates who would no doubt soon be stirring in nearby rooms, damn the thin walls and the always always being so bloody careful. Ali didn’t know it yet - he only let a short gasp as Jimmy bit into his shoulder – but he was about to make noises that couldn’t be contained by a bitten lip or a knuckle grazed against teeth. But just as Jimmy is about to take the upper hand, Ali flips them so Jimmy is on his back and pins his wrists to his sides. Jimmy is about to make a quip about just how valuable his wrists were to the England and Wales Cricket Board when Ali’s kissing trail inches down his chest and words fails him.

Ali reaches his desired destination and he takes Jimmy’s cock fully in his mouth. Jimmy automatically goes to cradle Ali’s head but Ali pins his arm back once again; I’m in charge. Jimmy is surprised but totally fine with being dominated. Jimmy often took control in the bedroom, being the more experienced of the pair; that rhythm felt natural, and it was one they fell into easily. On the pitch, when Ali was captain, Jimmy would happily do as he was told – well he would do as he was told anyway – he would “yes Cooky, no Cooky, three bags full Cooky” all day but when they were alone, Jimmy had always taken the lead. Occasionally though, after Ali had built more confidence in his abilities, he’d make it clear to Jimmy that this time, he was in control. Jimmy had absolutely no problem with Ali being assertive or even forceful – although the first time it happened, he’d laughed in surprise, which was definitely the wrong fucking move. And Jimmy didn’t acquiesce because he thought it was only fair to let Ali have a go, or he wanted to boost the younger man’s confidence, but simply because it felt really fucking good. Use me up, Ali. 

Jimmy wonders if he’d just said that last part out loud or it just happened to coincide with Ali releasing Jimmy from his mouth, and gripping onto his already-slick shaft firmly. Jimmy’s hands were unbound at last but he didn’t immediately seize upon his freedom, merely closing his eyes in pre-cum bliss as Ali worked away with his hands. Jimmy was well on his way but he wasn’t ready for this to be over yet so he used his liberty to pull Ali’s hands above their heads as he kissed the other man fiercely. 

“Wall,” Jimmy murmurs, barely able to summon the breath. Ali’s face crinkles in confusion but Jimmy doesn’t give Ali an explanation, or the time to work it out, he merely pushes his body out of bed and Ali’s pliant form with it. There is a moment where they both hang in stasis, catching their breath and preparing themselves of what’s to come. Ali is the one who takes the lead, clearly in the mood for it, and pulls Jimmy into him as he falls against the wall. If they took the time to think about, they would realise their teammate and captain was on the other side of said wall, and the atmosphere might have altered, but instead Jimmy falls into massaging Ali, going from the underside of his cock to his moistening entrance. Jimmy finds, as oft times before, that his partner was close already, almost begging for Jimmy to enter him. 

“Quick,” Ali whispers, and Jimmy immediately understands, slipping one finger inside Ali, then after a couple of seconds where Jimmy chews greedily at Ali’s neck, creating a difficult-to-explain mark, Jimmy inserts two then three fingers inside Ali, preparing him. Jimmy practically feels Ali quivering as his cock hovers inches away, but maybe that was conjured up in his mind from his own anticipation. Jimmy has no time to analyse it however, he merely feels his way in, as he had done many nights, mornings, and rain-delayed afternoons before. The moment of entry was like a dream come true every time, as if Jimmy couldn’t believe he is allowed to experience such ecstasy. He pulls back from violating Ali’s neck to stare into the farmer’s eyes, “my beautiful boy,” Jimmy breathes, in a rare moment of sentimentality. Ali doesn’t allow the moment to rest, perhaps too scared of feeling the bottom of it, and instead kicks his leg up athletically, bringing it to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, deepening Jimmy’s latest thrust.  
“Not just a pretty face,” Ali hums, pulling away from their kiss. 

Though he was always that, Jimmy finishes in his head. But before he gets too lost in the moment, in Ali’s eyes, his cock finds Ali’s pressure point and it takes all of Ali’s strength not to collapse onto Jimmy. But Jimmy isn’t willing for this to be it, “Wait,” he whispers into Ali’s neck, licking the spot his breath tickled, then biting it. Jimmy withdraws, and then thrusts back in with such fervour that the whispered promise, and the willpower and the damn stubbornness that had got Ali through long days at the crease and shut out the drones beyond it; none of it matters. Ali just gives into his body, feels the orgasm rip through him like a force of nature. Jimmy is almost there when Ali recovers sufficiently to whisper, “Come on tailender,” and before Ali can encourage him further, Jimmy duly does. 

Ali rights himself, and in this rare moment of having the upper hand, shoves the weakened bowler back to the bed and falls on top of him. They lie there in a hot, sticky tangle, neither wanting to move, despite the sunlight coming in, and the all too awake sounds of the hotel around them. Jimmy pushes back Ali’s hair from his face and Ali reaches for Jimmy’s cheek and they just sleepily hold each other, suspended in this dream world for just a moment longer. But then reality – in that terrible way it tends to do – intrudes as the pain in Ali’s arm where Jimmy is lying on it becomes unbearable and he pulls it out from under Jimmy’s muscled form with enough difficulty to suggest Jimmy is purposefully resisting.  
“Ow, sorry, bollocks, can you- my arm’s going numb.”  
“Can’t have that,” Jimmy sighs, spell broken now, as he puts his hands to his eyes and rubs them, looking up at the ceiling.  
Ali confirms the rupture by getting up from the beautiful hazy mess of their bed and heading towards the bathroom.  
“No we can’t,” Ali giggles, anticipating his own joke, “and not just because I’m planning a very special sleepover during the Oval test.”

And there it is, the magic of the man; the adorable, blushing, terrible at dirty talk but great at just about everything else dirty and otherwise, wonderful, kind, beautiful, strong, sexy man Jimmy had shared a changing room, a bed and a life with. That magic had made Jimmy’s skin sing, and his heart hammer for years now, and after this was all over as it soon might be, he would feel it still. But, Jimmy reasons, smiling at the sound of Ali swearing at the shower’s unexpected heat, that time isn’t yet and there is no way he’s spending these last few weeks making up highlight packages in his head instead of living, tasting, touching, feeling every moment. So, as that dreadfully dull real world creeps threateningly close to their locked hotel door, Jimmy channels his friend and sometime crush the divinely handsome blonde wicket keeper, whispers “Fuck it,” and after a few preparatory stretches, joins Ali under the soft misty water.


End file.
